Well Morrigan did much the same not once but twice in Kirkwall; rot in her nose after the battle when a spider was more useful towards the end both to fight and to terrify Venatori.

"None that felt quite so...vital." Morrigan replies because alive carries a certain weight and certain values with it in Thedas that may or may not apply here, that they are yet to see. A lie however when there is the Crossroads that made her very skin seem to sing at times, a place that she could mourn for when time has forgotten the true name of it, when it diminishes even now, when there is no chance of the likes of that or Solasan ever again. Mankind crushes and this is what they are left with. "Many are in such corners of the world that they have been forgotten, reclaimed by time, reclaimed by others and abandoned time and again until lack of use wears upon them. Then come the wild beasts and the passing of the years where the Veil splits itself so easily that a fingertip would burst the seams.

"Skyhold, perhaps. In its own way. Bones laid upon bones," her gaze slides to Alan, she can't help it, "In many places the magic will seep into the very place itself. The inscription outside should be kept in all our minds as we continue."